Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from South Sudan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Cybotron,
Joe Finger,
Fifty Foot Hose,
L. Decosne,
Little Man,
Jerry's Kids,
Alton Ellis,
Josef K,
The Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
Excepter,
Negative Approach,
The Fuzztones,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Neon Judgement,
Pere Ubu,
Jacob Miller,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Goldenarms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blake Baxter,
Khruangbin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric Dolphy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Todd Terry,
Barbara Tucker,
Country Teasers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Royal Trux,
Monks,
The Human League,
David Bowie,
Nick Fraelich,
Faust,
D'Angelo,
Lindisfarne,
The Searchers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Franke,
Quando Quango,
The Blackbyrds,
Hoover,
Bad Manners,
The Stooges,
Simply Red,
Peter and Kerry,
The Litter,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Victims,
The Black Dice,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bauhaus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Easy Going,
Neil Young,
Amon Düül II,
Talk Talk,
Babytalk,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.